Tell It to the Library
by wintergreen825
Summary: A little boy wandered in through the Backdoor of the Library. Jenkins decides he's going to keep him.


**Legal Disclaimer:** I own my stuff, but not the original source material. That belongs to whoever. Also, the opinions and interpretations I use here may not reflect the same in said whoever that owns the source material. Look, I'm just a poor college librarian. Suing me isn't going to get you anything but tears.

**Warning:** This work may be offensive to some readers. Feel free to back out if that's you.

**Author's Note:** Random crossover is random. Also, there's a lot of references to the Dursleys' abuse, especially concerning the food thing.

**Submitting Info:**  
**Stacked with:** Hogwarts (Term 10); MC4A  
**Individual Challenges:** Short Jog; New Fandom Smell (Y); Advice from the Mug; Neurodivergent; Quiet Time; Click Bait It (Y); Yellow Ribbon (Y); Yellow Ribbon Redux; Tiny Terror (Y); In the Library; Librarian MC (x5)(Y x1); Thief MC; Hacker MC; Seeds; Sett to Destroy  
**House:** Hufflepuff  
**Assignment No.:** Term 10 – Assignment 7  
**Subject (Task No.):** Survival Skills (Task #4: Write a fic set over three days; Must include a scene from each day.)  
**Space Address (Prompt):** 2A (Sweet)  
**Representation(s):** Genii; Jenkins (Sir Galahad); Harry Potter; the Library Fam; Cassandra Cillian; Child Abuse  
**Bonus Challenges: **Found Family; Nontraditional; Zucchini Bread; Bee Haven; Machismo; Peddling Pots; Second Verse (Ladylike; Not a Lamp; Persistence Still; White Dress); Chorus (Endless Wonder; Odd Feathers; Pocky Pockets; Wabi Sabi)  
**Tertiary Bonus Challenges: **T3 (Terrarium); SN (Rail; Intercepts)  
**Word Count:** 2413

(^^)  
**Tell It to the Library**  
(^^)

Jenkins tilted his head to the side, certain that a new angle would be enough to make sense of what he was seeing. The dark-haired boy still standing beside the secret entrance to the Annex mimicked the move. The boy's bright green eyes were bulging a bit and his cheeks were sunken. Overall, the kid looked gaunt in a way that Jenkins hadn't seen outside of serfs and street urchins. His dark tan skin had a grayish cast to it that made him look positively ill, especially with the jagged scar that cut across his forehead. The baggy clothes he was wearing only made him seem even scrawnier. Jenkins took a step closer only to stop when the boy braced himself as if expecting a blow.

"How did you get here?" Jenkins asked when it became clear that the boy—whose age couldn't possible be anywhere close to the double digits—was not going to say anything. The boy looked vaguely sick at the question. Jenkins tried to modify his tone away from his normal impatient gruffness. "This place is very secure, and you shouldn't have been able to just wander in, especially from that door."

"I didn't mean to, sir," he explained as he began to twist his cuffs with the opposite hands. "There was just a weird light coming from the supply cupboard and when I opened it to inve—to _look_, the light was gone but there was a hallway with puzzles."

"I'm supposed to be that you just solved all of them by yourself," Jenkins dismissed in disbelief. The boy froze, clearly uncertain how to reply. Jenkins sighed. While the Backdoor had been created for a group of four_ minimum_, the Library itself controlled the difficulty setting of the puzzle corridor. Just because it had never connected to a random door so far away (the boy's accent was clearly southern England, likely London or an adjacent county) or made the puzzles so easy a small child could solve them, doesn't not preclude the event from happening. "Are you hungry?"

"No, sir," the boy answered immediately, "I'm fine."

"I'm sure that in someone's definition of the word _fine_," Jenkins snapped with no small amount of sarcasm, "you are, but let's set that aside for another time. How about we start with your name?"

"Um," the boy stammered, looking confused by the question. Jenkins' frown deepened along with his dislike of the boy's guardians, whoever they may be for the moment. Then the boy cemented every half-formed insult that Jenkins had been thinking. "Freak?"

"Right," Jenkins said evenly, though he wanted nothing more than to start yelling expletives. "Let's go with something more of a name than an insult. Like Harry, since you Houdini'd yourself into the most secure place on the planet."

"The dream lady called me that," the boy said softly, like he wasn't certain he wanted to be heard. "No one else does. My aunt and uncle only say 'the boy'. Aunt Marge calls me 'the whelp' or 'the pup'. Dudley is the one who says 'freak'. I know it's an insult, but other than the dream lady, that's all I know. Sorry, sir."

"Why are you apologizing? If it's all you know, it's all you know."

"Sorry, sir," Harry replied, starting to tremble slightly. "I was just—I mean, I have no excuse, sir. You didn't ask for details and I shouldn't have assumed that you—I just shouldn't have assumed anything. It's disrespectful and rude and, and, and—I'm sorry, sir."

It was only over a millennium and a half of dealing with Librarians that allowed Jenkins to follow the rapid flood of words that spilled from the boy's mouth. The abrupt interruptions as Harry corrected himself was practically _textbook Librarian_, despite the lack of confidence the child was exhibiting. In all of his very long life, Jenkins had never seen the distinctive traits that the Library looked for in Librarians exhibited by someone so young. Cassandra and Ezekiel had been the youngest Jenkins had ever seen invited, and both of them had been teens, albeit barely in the case of Ezekiel.

A theory began to form in the back of Jenkins' mind, but it wasn't a pressing enough issue to attempt to recall any of the current staff from their various trips. There were other things that were more important.

"You know what else would be rude?" Jenkins asked gruffer than he wanted. Harry appeared to be holding his breath. "Making me eat by myself."

"I can cook, sir," Harry insisted, rushing forward.

Jenkins barely stopped himself from growling when he realized just how very _tiny_ the boy was. Yet Jenkins didn't doubt Harry's claim, despite how dubious it appeared on the surface. The Library called only the extraordinary to itself, especially those whose extraordinary capabilities centered around intelligence in some way. Combined with the abysmal care and outright abuse from the boy's _ever-so-loving_ family, Jenkins could believe that Harry did know how to cook a good number of things. Height and strength would be his only hindrances.

"No need for that," Jenkins said, ushering the boy towards the little communal kitchen that the Annex had. Until he knew more about the kid, it would probably be best to keep him out of the main portion of the Library. "I think Jacob left some soup on the stove before he headed out."

(^^)

Unsurprisingly, Ezekiel was the first Librarian to return. The thief had the best track record of completion so long as the retrieval was in a relatively modern location. The more rustic sites were more likely to require Cassandra's specialty with magic or Jacob's way with languages. The arrival order was also helped by the fact that Jacob was attending a seminar in Bucharest that would not end for another two days and Cassandra was visiting her vampire lady friend (and thus unlikely to return before the end of the week). Flynn and Eve were still on what was basically a honeymoon, having just bonded to both the Library and each other.

"Jenkins," Ezekiel said slowly, taking exaggerated care to enunciate each syllable, "there's midget sitting on the table. Are you seeing it, too, mate?"

For a moment, Jenkins contemplated denying Harry's presence just to mess with Ezekiel's head a bit. Then he remembered how the boy had acted like he should do his best to remain invisible, especially after Jenkins' less than warm welcome when he had arrived yesterday. To deny Harry's existence, in front of him no less, seemed unjustifiably cruel.

"Harry's not a midget," Jenkins corrected impatiently. He passed the boy another puzzle ball to solve. They had been playing the 'game' all morning. Mundane puzzles had been laughably easy for Harry, taking minutes only because of how small Harry's hands were. They were now working their way through the safer magical puzzles. The further they got in the collection, the more Jenkins' theory that Harry was a potential Librarian was confirmed. "He's a child."

"Okay," Ezekiel said, dragging out the oh part for longer than needed. Harry glanced at him through his fringe before looking back at Jenkins' nose and giving a slow blink. Clearly deciding to follow Jenkins' lead, the boy started solving the advanced puzzle that had stumped many _Librarians_, despite their being the best and brightest that the world had to offer. "What is he doing here—whoa."

Harry handed back the completely solved ball as Ezekiel fell into stunned silence behind Jenkins.

"The Library let him in," Jenkins replied. He didn't need to look at Ezekiel to know the Australian was giving him that annoying skeptical look he was so fond of. "As in, the Library went out of its way to attract his attention to a Door that it attached completely on its own to a currently unknown location somewhere in rural England."

"Surrey," Harry provided, "Little Whinging. Sir Walter Hutchinson Public Library. Near the reference section."

"I'd ask what a kid was doing in the reference section of a library," Ezekiel said as he moved around Jenkins to get a better look at Harry. Even after a full day in the Library, the boy still looked like something washed up on a shore somewhere. With three good meals and plenty to drink, at least the gray cast to his skin had receded. Time would tell if how well they could fix the other issues. "But that was a Coeus Globe that he solved in under thirty seconds and even Cassie takes a full two minutes. That really only lends itself to two things. Well, one thing, if his story is true. He's too cute to be the next Big Bad, though."

Harry blinked at both of them.

"Maybe we should call Jacob?"

"And why would we do that?"

"He's good with kids."

"That's incredible modern of you, Mr. Jones."

"I'm a modern guy," Ezekiel retorted, offended. "What are you trying to imply?"

"Just that you tend to regress to the belief that women are default caregivers, especially Col. Baird or Ms. Cillian."

"First off, Eve would probably give the kid a heart attack. She can be a little scary. Secondly, Cassie isn't a woman. She's a _Cassie_. She doesn't count."

"And just when I was starting to believe that you had actually matured, too."

"That's it," Ezekiel declared. He pulled Harry off the table. Harry squeaked but otherwise didn't protest the manhandling. "I'm taking the kid and we're raiding the stash of biscuits you get from the sources you refuse to reveal."

"He needs real food!"

"_Biscuits_, Jenkins. He needs _biscuits_."

(^^)

Jenkins heard her before he could see her. Cassandra had a tendency to raise her voice if she got excited. Since everything science tended to excite the young woman, it made sense that her voice would raise as she discussed her recent week in Brazil with whoever her companion was. It was most likely Jacob, given the time. If he hadn't stayed for the after party, he would be arriving right about now.

It certainly wasn't Ezekiel, as the thief was across the lounge teaching Harry something involving bells and Velcro that Jenkins had decided to deliberately not take notice of.

The voices abruptly ended as the pair entered the room. Jenkins waited a moment before bothering to raise his eyes from the artifact he had been studying. Cassandra looked wonderfully tanned, despite the fair complexion that went along with her bright red hair. She was still wearing clothes more suited to the Brazilian climate than springtime in Portland, but she appeared enraptured by the novelty of seeing a new person in the Library. Beside her, Jacob was pulling off his glasses to clean them on his polo, as if believing that would change anything he was seeing.

"Hey, Ezekiel, I thought we agreed _no more souvenirs_," Jacob commented, drawing attention to himself. Ezekiel gave a lazy grin while Harry appeared to be staring at Cassandra, just as enthralled with her as she seemed to be with him. "Didn't you learn your lesson after the siren debacle?"

"Harry's not a souvenir," Ezekiel argued. "He's a Librarian."

"You can't just make random kids Librarians, man."

"He's magic," Cassandra announced before the two men could descend into their normal bickering. She was moving forward now, closing the distance quickly. "I mean, he's _has magic_, like the Library or like me. He can't _be magic_. That doesn't make sense, except that he's more saturated than anything I have ever sensed. Even Cal had been dull compared to him, and Excalibur was a key capable of unlocking the ley lines."

She knelt in front of Harry before moving both hands in front of her. Jenkins recognized it as her gesture to activate the visualizations that accompanied her mental calculations. What surprised him was the hesitant motion that Harry made in return, as if reaching out to touch something in the space between them. His green eyes darted to Cassandra's upturned face, receiving a reassuring grin and nod to his unspoken question. Only then did the small boy begin moving his hands through the space, exactly like Cassandra always did when she had to work out a problem quickly.

"He's a Librarian," Cassandra agreed, not looking away from whatever the boy was doing. "Or at the very least, he belongs here, in the Library. Where are his parents?"

"From what I've been able to infer," Jenkins said, keeping a weather eye on Harry who had become engrossed in whatever puzzle Cassandra had provided him, "they passed away and Harry was given to relatives who struggle to meet even the minimum requirements for childcare."

"So we're keeping him? Just like that?" Jacob sounded more shocked than appalled by the idea. "Kids aren't pets, you know. You can't just snatch one off the street and claim 'em."

"Tell that to the Library," Jenkins countered, not bothering to explain because the alarm on his watch had started beeping. He had set it after the first day when he realized that Harry wasn't going to speak up if he was hungry and the only other person who felt hunger was a Librarian, who as a whole tended to forget basic physical needs like eating or rest. Without an internal reminder, he had felt it prudent to create an external one. "It's time for a snack. How does finger sandwiches sound?"

"I'm calling Eve," Jacob said as Jenkins scooped up the small boy, breaking the light trance that he and Cassandra had fallen into as they worked. "She'll know what to do."

"You are welcomed to try, of course," Jenkins agreed readily. "A bit hard to get a signal to someone beyond the reach of even the strongest satellite phone, but feel free to make the attempt just the same. She and Flynn are due back in three more days, so they may be back in range by now."

"We can't just keep a kid, Jenkins! That's _kidnapping_."

"Again, _tell that to the Library_. It's the one who brought him here." Jenkins shifted his attention to Harry. "Cucumber sandwiches again?"

Harry gave a shy nod before tentatively wrapping his thin arms around Jenkins' neck and laid his head down. Jenkins' old heart melted at the show of comfort. Regardless of what Eve had to say, he was not going to ever let the boy go back to those monsters to be starved for both food and affection.

He would die first.


End file.
